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I walk unseen On the dry smooth-shaven green, To behold the wandering moon Riding near her highest noon, Like one that had been led astray Through the heav'n's wide pathless way; And oft, as if her head she bow'd, Stooping through a fleecy cloud.

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Jan 05, 2026

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Quote Author: Philip J. Davis

Philip J. Davis

Philip J. Davis

Number, Scientific American, 211, (Sept. 1964), 51 - 59 - Mathematician.

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